


fourteen seconds

by 00hjs



Series: just stray kids things [6]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Han Jisung | Han-centric, M/M, Mentioned Stray Kids Ensemble, Minor Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Sad, Sickfic, Swearing, but like once, i guess, i guess?, if u think about it, oopsies, sorta - Freeform, um, yeah thats all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00hjs/pseuds/00hjs
Summary: jisung knows it's going to happen before it does.he knows the feeling.his tongue is suddenly too heavy for his mouth and his eyelids are suddenly too heavy to keep open.the rush of nausea that leaves him sick to his stomach and the stadium tilting on its axis.the last thing he registers properly before the fuzziness clouds in and he sinks to his knees in the middle of the last chorus is the number flashing in his head.14 seconds.orthe one where jisung collapses in the middle of one of their songs and maybe it's all his fault





	fourteen seconds

when he's dancing, jisung counts the songs by seconds. 

he's not quite sure why he still does it. he'd started it years ago when he'd needed to push himself to keep going in the practice room. three am dance sessions had lead to him counting down under his breath. 

whenever he'd hit a mark, he'd be able to convince himself it was only a little longer. and little by little, he'd built his stamina up. he still does it now, even though he's not too sure why. while dancing definitely isn't his favorite thing in the world, he doesn't really hate it, either. 

but even now, whenever there's a new choreography to learn, jisung still does it. his first question is always some variation of 'how long is it' or 'what are the time marks'. it's just habit. 

and now, on stage, jisung's doing it again. 

because it's their last song of the night, it's hot and stuffy, and he's _exhausted_. 

he'd known before he'd even gone on stage that something wasn't right. his limbs had been so sore and he'd been tired even as the opening music for district 9 had started. 

right now, the only thing keeping him going is how hard they've practiced for this day. gone over the covers and formations hundreds of times, stayed up countless hours recording and re-recording backing vocals, danced the same choreography over and over until it's flawless. 

and jisung's not going to let all that go to waste just because he's _tired_. 

minho's dancing in front of him and hyunjin and felix are on either side of him. they're still going strong and somehow, it sparks something inside jisung to move. he knows his moves are sloppy and badly executed right now, but it's all he can force himself to do. 

my pace is a 3 minute and 8 second song. 

3 minutes and 8 seconds which have never, ever seemed so long before. 

changbin's rap echoes through jisung's in-ears. creates a buzzing background noise that jisung _knows_ is not supposed to be there. it's almost as if the world's going fuzzy as he slides into his next position, keeping his mouth open so he can gasp in a breath every now and then. 

jisung throws himself to the side on beat with changbin's rap and whirls into where he's supposed to be. 1 minute and 58 seconds. 

he's actually a whole four inches from where he's supposed to be and _he knows it._ from the way minho glances back at him and then towards where jisung's supposed to be and from the confused look hyunjin gives him because he's not dancing directly next to him. 

1 minute and 6 seconds.

66 seconds. 

chan starts the chorus and jisung's relying purely on muscle memory now. he's got no idea what he's doing and he feels sick as he moves along with the beat, slamming his feet onto the floor just a second too late. 

that's another worried look from minho and two from felix and changbin. 

he darts to where he's supposed to be four seconds after his cue. 

focus, jisung. focus. 61 seconds. 

you can do this. you have to do this. 

he switches into the position to his right and lifts up his fingers as he turns. still one beat off. 

tired. he's so, so, tired. he can feel himself shutting down slowly, even as he forces his trembling fingers to close into a fist in front of him. 

54 seconds. 

just 54. less than a minute, jisung. less than a minute and it'll be over. just make it 54 seconds. 

please. 

felix goes to the middle and delivers his lines. jisung only barely registers that he's looking at him instead of at the camera. he's focused on making it all the way through. 

50 seconds. 

50 seconds, jisung. you have to make it fifty seconds and you'll be done. 

he's mumbling it under his breath now, almost like a mantra, as he drops to his knees  behind jeongin. he doesn't even register the impact this time around, because the corners of his vision are fading black and he's tired. 

he's just so tired. 

chan and woojin are behind him and he can feel their gazes burning his back as he forces himself up a final time and delivers his line. 

his voice doesn't match the backing track completely.

off beat. shaky. he barely sounds like himself. his own voice resonates slowly in his own ears. 

messed up. 

32 seconds. 

just 32 seconds left. 

that's all there is to it.

but jisung's having trouble breathing now. he's sure even the audience can hear his desperate gasping through the audio features and he knows the rest of them can hear it through their in-ears, but all he's focused on is keeping himself upright. 

everything's moving in slow motion. he can feel himself losing it for a second as he blinks hard, switching feet once, twice, thrice, and--landing on the wrong foot. 

his legs are going numb. 

jisung knows it's going to happen before it does. 

he knows the feeling. 

his tongue is suddenly too heavy for his mouth and his eyelids are suddenly too heavy to keep open. 

the rush of nausea that leaves him sick to his stomach and the stadium tilting on its axis. 

the last thing he registers properly before the fuzziness clouds in and he sinks to his knees in the middle of the last chorus is the number flashing in his head. 

14 seconds. 

it's--he's not exactly unconscious, but it's more a strange, lethargic feeling. 

jisung knows he couldn't get up even if he tried. there are people pulling on his arm, others talking, but it all settles as static in his ears. he can't blink his eyes open either--the only thing he can process is the microphone slipping from his hand and landing with a chalkboard squeak on the stage. 

then, he's backstage.

there's cold air being blown in his face and the rush of voices above him, but he's still drifting in the state between unconscious and conscious and he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that someone's asking him to do something but his fingers feel too heavy to move and it's almost as if someone's placed a weight on his chest. 

because he literally cannot breathe properly. 

and then something flashes. maybe it's the fan air that's being directed to his face or the water that's being forced past his lips, but jisung blinks once, twice, and there's a collective sigh above him. 

"jisung-ssi, can you hear me?" 

jisung nods. slowly, because he's still out of it and the words are taking a long while to process. he's aware of one of the staff members holding a fan to his face and another checking his pulse.

"he's alright." the staff member who's holding his wrist confirms, smiling gently at jisung. 

he would've smiled back if he could've found the energy to actually do anything.

"just overheated and drained. sleep and food is probably the best solution right now." 

she pats jisung's arm once before standing up and clicking away. everyone else continues bustling around him, pestering him with questions he can't bring himself to answer and sticking thermometers in his mouth. 

once it's confirmed that no, he's not sick and yes, he's probably just overworked and exhausted, they leave him alone. granted, not exactly, they sit on the chairs across the room, but they clear the space around him. 

"oh my _god_ jisung you scared the _crap_ out of me!" 

there's a giant bundle of hyunjin on top of him after that and soon enough, he's surrounded by eight people who are way too close for his liking. 

"i'm sorry. i'm--i'm okay, i just--" 

"yeah, no, okay is something you are currently not." 

chan's standing over him with a disapproving look that makes jisung's stomach turn. he hates being stared at like that, hates knowing that he's disappointed someone. even if it's not his fault he'd keeled over on stage, he feels guilty somehow. 

he'd probably caused stray kids' section to get cut from the broadcast. wonderful. on top of that, there are like, a ton of other idol groups here who he looks up to who probably just witnessed him keeling over on stage. 

lovely. 

he's gone and done it, hasn't he? he's managed to ruin it as well. 

14 seconds. if only he could've kept himself up for 14 seconds longer. jisung's not even strong enough to keep himself up for the entirety of one of their songs. 

disappointed in himself, that's what he is. not okay. 

somewhere in his train of thought, someone's decided that they're all going home. they're not staying for the rest of the show. jisung's all and ready to protest that he's fine, but his own body is still rebelling against him. 

he doesn't mean to, but when hyunjin and chan help him up, jisung's legs seem to decide they're not up to holding up and he stumbles. he freaks out for a second when his vision clouds over again because he's scared he's actually going to pass out. 

they get halfway through the hallway when jisung stops suddenly. 

there's a wave of nausea that crashes over him out of the blue and he freezes. 

oh god. he's going to be sick, right in the middle of the hallway. 

the back of his throat goes dry as chan and hyunjin both stop with him and look at him, concern clear in their eyes. 

"wait i don't--shit-- _i don't feel good_." jisung manages quickly. 

"oh shit--" chan starts and hyunjin, god bless his reflexes, spots a bathroom that happens to be a few feet away and shoves the three of them in. jisung somehow gains enough energy to sprint to the last and biggest stall before crashing to his knees and proceeding to empty his insides. 

the buzzing in his ear's back as he pushes himself up and stumbles through the doorway to rinse his mouth out. he falls against the sink and nearly crashes into the mirror, but chan's there to catch him and keep him back. 

"is--wait, that's not supposed to--is that normal?" 

hyunjin is reasonably flustered and worried but all jisung can focus on is that ugly feeling of guilt twisting in his insides as he's guided out of the bathroom. 

chan says something to hyunjin that jisung's not listening to, but it seems to calm him down. 

the rest of them are still waiting up ahead. jisung hears chan explain to them and they keep walking. 

nothing seems to be on his side, though, because they stop again four and a half minutes later. 

270 seconds. 

much longer than 14 seconds, jisung thinks. 

14 stupid seconds. 

"we, uh--we saw what happened? is he, um, is he alright?" 

jisung feels his cheeks burn and he looks down, angling his face so his hair falls down and covers him. he recognizes that voice.

they seem to understand that he's not going to answer, so they answer for him. 

"he's okay, yeah. he's just--drained. he'll be fine. thank you, sunbaenim." 

jisung falls into a half bow along with chan and straightens up quickly. he doesn't look up, though. he's already beyond embarrassed. 

the whole ride home, he pretends to be asleep. answering questions is out of his radar at the moment. 

half an hour later finds him in his bedroom. 

1800 seconds. 

if he's managed to stay upright and awake for 1800, why couldn't he have just done it 14 seconds longer? 

he's a disgrace, if he thinks about it. hyunjin's danced with a pulled muscle. jeongin's stumbled, but he'd gotten up afterwards. he'd gotten up. 

and jisung hadn't. 

he couldn't. 

weak. he's weak and overdramatic. him being tired--how had that been any excuse? they're all tired. tired is not valid, especially not in his case. invalid.

just like him. 

"what's up, sung?" 

minho drops into the bunk next to him, a small smile on his face as he sits cross legged in front of jisung. 

jisung looks up and then back down. 

"nothing." 

minho frowns. 

"i can practically hear you thinking from the other room. c'mon, sungie, what's wrong? you're not still feeling bad, are you?" 

jisung sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. 

good going. now you've made them all worried for no reason. pathetic. 

useless. 

"it's just," he mumbles slowly, and minho blinks at him, all wide-eyed and concerned, "fourteen seconds." 

minho tilts his head, confused. 

"what about fourteen seconds, jisung?"

jisung groans and slumps back into the pillow that's resting against the headboard. 

"there were only _fourteen seconds_ of the stupid song left. i _could've stayed up_ for fourteen seconds!" 

minho reaches over and hits jisung on the knee. hard. he looks offended and jisung yelps, betrayed. 

"what the _hell_ , jisung? are you _serious_ right now?" minho shrieks. "you _passed out_ in the middle of the song and you're mad that you--what the actual _fuck, jisung_?!" 

jisung shrinks back into his pillows. 

the number fourteen is still swimming around in his brain--he's never going to be able to get it out, either. 

"jisung-ah, listen to me." minho's voice is firm and jisung looks down, biting his lip. 

he wants to claw his skin. 

"listen to me. you are so, so strong, sungie, and we're all so proud of you for making it as far as you did. it's not your fault and if you ever let me hear you even think that it is, i will not hesitate to smack you." 

minho sounds so desperate for jisung to believe him, but the raw guilt and disappointment twisting up inside him is enough to overpower whatever minho's saying. 

jisung tunes him out. 

words are just words. they mean nothing. 

empty. 

but jisung knows, deep inside, that he's let everyone down. an opportunity for them to be noticed, a moment of pride for their hard work, and he'd cut it off because of his stupid, useless limbs. 

and fourteen seconds. 

he's never hated the song 'my pace' as much as he does right now. he's never quite hated himself as much as he does right now, either. 

minho finishes whatever little speech he's got going on right now. jisung knows the drill. 

 

he looks up, pastes on a smile, and gives a half shrug. 

"okay, hyung." 

and it's enough for minho. 

because minho doesn't know that he'll be beating himself up for this every time he hears 'my pace' after today. doesn't know that jisung's never going to end his inner turmoil, even after he'd promised himself he'd never return to the dark places he'd left behind him. 

"sleep well, sung-ah. you need it." 

minho ruffles jisung's hair and leaves. 

jisung dreams of broken dance moves and a timer ticking down. 

from fourteen seconds. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> damn i need to stop  
> i guess leave kudos and comments if u enjoyed?  
> this was kinda fun to write ngl oopsies hehe  
> tumblr: @jisunshiiine


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